THE  VIVINE  ENCHANTMENT 


THE  VIVINE  <£ 
ENCHANTMENT 


H  /Mystical  poem 


'BY 

.  G. 


JAMES  T.  WHITE  &  CO. 
1900 


Copyright,  1900, 
BY  JAMES  T.  WHITE  &  COMPANY. 

(All  rights  reserved.) 


PREFATORY. 


Many  years  before  our  era  there  reigned  over 
the  province  of  Madura,  in  India,  a  tyrant,  Kansa. 
During  his  reign  there  lived  in  an  obscure  village 
of  the  realm  a  maiden  of  the  race  of  Yadu,  named 
Devanaguy,  who,  so  the  ancient  prophets  sang, 
should  bear  Christna,  the  incarnation  of  Vishnu, 
destined  to  establish  temporal  and  spiritual  empire 
over  all  the  world.  This  prophecy  wrought  so  much 
upon  the  king's  fear  and  jealousy,  that  he  ordered 
the  virgin  Devanaguy  to  be  safely  locked  in  his 
prison,  and  guarded  most  vigilantly,  hoping  that 
by  cutting  off  in  this  way  all  possible  intercourse 
with  men,  he  might  thwart  the  divine  plan  and  the 
prophets.  But  during  her  incarceration  the  spirit 
of  Vishnu  appeared  and  overshadowed  her,  whereat 
the  virgin  conceived.  During  the  term  of  her  gesta- 
tion Devanaguy  was  transported  by  a  continual, 
ecstatic  dream.  Her  spirit,  freed  from  her  body, 
ran  through  every  pulse  of  passion,  felt  the  dark 
terrors  of  the  Void,  and  wantoned  in  the  unwinged 
blue;  thus  giving  to  the  unborn  child,  inherently, 
that  for  which  the  sages  vainly  sought.  The  follow- 
ing rhapsody  is  the  dream  in  miniature. 

J.  G.  NEIHARDT. 
1899. 

5 


CONTENTS. 

I.— PRELUDE, 9 

II.— ENCHANTMENT,  .  •'.''  /.  .  .  .  .10 
III. — INTERLUDE,  '  *  v  V  .  ...  19 
IV.— BIRTH  OF  BRAHM,  .  .  .  ...  21 

V.— PROCREATION, 24 

VI. — PRESERVATION, 32 

VII. — DISSOLUTION, .36 

VII L— NIRVANA, 41 

IX. — DISENCHANTMENT, 43 

X. — POSTLUDE, 45 


TERMS  IN  THE  FOLLOWING  WORK. 

AJAKAVA — The  bow  used  by  Siva,  the  destroyer,  in  bring- 
ing about  the  dissolution  of  Cosmos. 

AMRITA — The  beverage  of  the  Hindoo  gods,  corresponding 
to  the  Grecian  nectar. 

ASSOURAS,  NAGAS,  &c. — Names  of  the  apostate  angels,  or 
demons  in  the  realms  of  Kala. 

BRAHMA— First  of  the  Hindoo  trinity;  the  Creator. 

CHRISTNA — An   incarnation   of  Vishnu,   and   one   of  the 
saviours  of  the  world. 

CALI-YOUGA — The  name  of  the  age  in  which  Christna  was 
born. 

INDRA — The  god  of  the  clear  sky. 

JESEUS — The  name  applied  to  Christna,  and  correspond- 
ing to  Isis,  Jesus,  Zeus,  &c. 

KALA — The  name  of  Siva  in  his  capacity  as  death.. 

NIRVANA — Meaning  "blown   out,"  that  is,  the  universal 
calm  of  death. 

NARADA — An  ancient  Hindoo  prophet. 

OM — The  mystic  word,  significant  of  infinite  power. 

RACKCHASOS — The  Hindoo  demons. 

SURYA — The  Hindoo  sun  god. 

SANSARA — The  world  hung,  as  it  were,  upon  the  apostate 
spirits  as  punishment  for  their  fall. 

SIVA — The  third  of  the  Hindoo  trinity,  or  Destroyer. 

TRIMOURTI — The  Hindoo  trinity. 

VISHNU — Second  of  the  Hindoo  trinity,  Preserver. 

YAMA — The  Hindoo  god  of  death. 

8 


Che  Divine  enchantment 


i. 

PRELUDE. 

"In  Cali-Youga  shall  a  virgin  bear 

The  Incarnate  Essence  of  the  mighty  Soul, 

Who  comes  to  bid  the  weak  and  lowly  live. 

Oh,  He  shall  come  like  sun  at  dead  of  night, 

And  at  His  first  low  wail  the  sacred  stream 

Shall  thrill  with  rapture  even  to  its  source, 

And  bound  as  does  a  pregnant  woman's  heart 

At  the  first  rapture  of  the  springing  life. 

Strange  sounds  shall  hurtle  through  the  dark  abyss, 

Bidding  Rackchasos  tremble  in  their  dens; 

Sweet  strains  shall  charm  the  holy  hermit's  ears, 

And  he  shall  praise  the  saviour  in  his  wilds; 

The  wondering  winds  shall  surfeit  with  perfume 

And  feel  the  rapture  of  his  tender  law." 

So  sang  Narada  in  the  ancient  time, 

And  now  fulfilment  hovered  sweetly  near. 


Cnc  Divine  enchantment 


II. 
ENCHANTMENT. 

O  Evening,  dusky  daughter  of  the  Day, 

Multiloquent  in  silence,  passioned,  calm; 

Thou  seemest  to  me  a  lovely  Yadu  maid, 

Whose  cheek  though  browned,  yet  blushes  with  the  pulse 

Of  love  and  summer;  while  a  languid  soul 

Dreams  in  the  dark,  deep  eyes,  that  placid,  hint 

Of  all  the  tropic  passion  they  can  flash 

When  love  hath  charmed  them  or  when  hate  hath  stirred. 

Close,  close,  thou  creepest  to  the  eager  earth, 

That  fondly  quivers  with  a  conscious  thrill; 

Thy  amorous  breath  is  mingled  with  its  breath; 

Thy  dusky  breast  is  throbbing  on  its  own; 

Thy  kiss,  prolonged,  clings  drowsily  the  while 

But  cannot  satiate,  till  sweetly  lulled, 

A  hemisphere  swoons  to  oblivion 

Enwound  in  thy  voluptuous  embrace! 

The  drowsy  maidens  in  the  palmy  groves 

Forgot  the  song  of  love  that  slept  on  lip, 

And  there  drooped  fingers  lay  mid  sitar's  strings. 

Yet,  hidden  in  the  leaves,  the  bulbul  woke 

In  long  ecstatic  bursts  of  melody; 

And  when  the  song  into  an  echo  sank, 

The  deep,  sonorous,  moaning  of  the  trees 

Swelled  like  a  fettered  giant's  hopeless  sigh, 

Till  solaced  by  the  ever-rising  song, 

It  murmurous  crept  beneath  the  chanted  spell. 

10 


tbe  Divine  enchantment 

Over  Madura's  towers  fell  the  shade 
Of  evening  with  its  influence  of  calm; 
Into  a  tower  cell  the  night  charm  crept, 
Crept  o'er  a  maiden  knelt  in  holy  prayer; 
Lowly  she  moaned  and  in  her  moaning  prayed; 
"Truth,  Wisdom,  endless  Brahm, 
Source  of  all  bliss,  immortal,  shining  forth, 
Peaceful,  benignant,  secondless, 
O  listen  to  a  humble  maiden's  prayer. 
Make  thou  me  free,  though  walls  are  round  about; 
Rule  thou  my  soul,  though  tyrants  sway  my  form; 
Bind  my  soul  to  thee  as  my  body's  bound; 
Breathe  o'er  me  with  thy  breath  of  deathless  calm, 
Om,  peace,  peace,  peace." 

Soft  sleep,  in  answer  to  her  prayer,  crept 
Into  her  sorrowed  pulses,  and  she  slept; 
Night  charmed  the  blood  in  every  bounding  vein, 
That  crept  with  drowsy  music  to  her  brain, 
And  all  the  pleasure  that  her  youth  would  feel 
Dream  touched  with  magic  and  it  lingered  real. 

Meanwhile  a  tremor  wakened  in  the  Vast; 

The  worlds  grew  calm,  nor  sputtered  more  the  suns; 

The  earth  was  shrouded  in  a  pulseless  dream, 

The  birds  were  voiceless  in  the  silent  trees; 

The  streams  forgot  their  laughter  'mid  the  rocks 

And  in  their  depths  the  fishes  fell  asleep; 

The  winds  stood  still,  and  languished  in  the  breath 

Of  drooping  flowers;  all  sense  expectant  faltered. 

But  suddenly  a  storm  of  melody 

Burst  from  the  brooding  mystery  of  silence! 

All  that  exists  took  up  a  second  life; 

The  worlds,  the  suns  whirled  on  in  rhythmic  hope; 

The  earth,  the  trees,  the  birds,  the  sparkling  streams 

ii 


tbe  Divine  Enchantment 

Quivered  with  life;  then  through  the  music  swelled 
A  voice  more  lovely  than  the  strains  it  stilled, 

"O  world,  O  wayward  children,  now  I  come; 
O  poor  night  dwellers,  hope,  for  dawns  the  day, 
Chaste  Devanaguy  bears  thee  life  and  light." 

Then  o'er  the  sleeping  maiden  crept  a  shade, 

A  shadow  brooding  with  a  conscious  power; 

Not  as  the  darkness  of  the  depth  of  night, 

But  radiant,  a  mist  of  starry  sheen. 

It  kissed  her  breast,  that  swelled  with  double  breath; 

Infused  a  sweet  hope  in  the  sluggish  veins, 

That  worked  and  sang  and  charmed;  and  'round  her  form 

With  warm  embrace,  clung  like  celestial  robe. 

Love  of  a  thousand  mothers  lulled  her  brain, 

And  in  her  blood  a  gentle  whisper  crept, 

That  said  with  soothing  sweetness,  "Thou  art  blest; 

Lo!  Devanaguy,  at  thy  virgin  heart 

The  world's  high  promise  quickens  into  life; 

For  Vishnu,  blest  Preserver  of  the  worlds, 

Hath  entered  thee,  nor  boasts  a  prouder  throne; 

Tho'  he  may  glimmer  in  the  summer  cloud, 

All  radiant  with  ineffable  desires; 

Tho'  he  may  blossom  in  the  banyan  boughs, 

Where  sing  the  drowsy  night-birds  to  their  loves; 

Tho'  he  may  flash  a  mighty,  regal  thought 

In  mystic  minds  of  sages  in  their  dreams, 

He  boasts  no  prouder  dwelling;  and  above, 

When  earth  is  once  again  reclaimed  from  night, 

He'll  glance  a  brighter  glory  from  his  eye, 

A  prouder  voice  shall  well  from  out  his  mouth, 

And  he  shall  say,  'Lo,  Devanaguy,  she, 

The  spotless  virgin  of  a  sinful  world 

Once  bore  me.' 

12 


the  Divine  enchantment 

Dream  then  sweetly  of  thy  child; 
The  passioned  heaving  of  thy  maiden  breast, 
Tho'  tender  as  the  fragrant  breath  of  flowers, 
More  mighty  is  than  ocean's  boundless  surge." 

Then  crept  a  dream  through  every  throbbing  pulse; 
Not  such  a  dream  as  mortal  mothers  love, 
When  sweetly  thinking  how  the  child  shall  smile 
And  prattle  when  the  smile  is  quick  returned; 
Not  such  a  dream  as  thrills  a  mother's  soul, 
When  thinking  of  the  sweet  weight  at  her  breasts; 
But  infinite  her  dream;  she  felt  she  bore 
The  incarnate  passion  of  the  dashing  shower, 
The  unconsoled  longing  of  the  sea, 
The  amorous  spirit  of  the  burning  sun, 
The  murmurous  music  of  the  sacred  stream! 

A  tinkling  music  wakened  in  her  ears, 

As  if  the  rivulets  of  Himalay 

Had  struck  their  lotus  harps  in  joyous  song, 

Fraught  with  the  boast  of  harvests  they  had  dewed 

And  nurtured  into  gold;  her  spirit  fled, 

Like  eager  echo  in  the  wake  of  sound 

Down  the  charmed  pathway  of  that  tinkling  song, 

Till  it  began  to  swell  to  graver  note, 

As  when  the  sacred  stream  with  hundred  mouths 

Cries  forth  its  passion  to  the  listening  deep, 

Then,  murmurous,  dreams  again  its  natal  dreams. 

She  felt  the  longing  arms  of  Ocean  old 

Twine  round  her  spirit  in  an  amorous  clasp, 

And  through  her  thrilled  his  passion,  old  as  earth, 

Yet  pure  and  deep  as  of  the  blooming  youth. 

Then  o'er  the  heaving  bosom  of  the  sea 

A  dream-fraught  zephyr  crept  from  central  climes 

13 


tl)C  Divine  enchantment 

Where  Indra  girdles  earth  with  radiant  smile: 
Crept  lover-like,  with  fragrance  in  its  breath, 
And  soothing  tales  of  summer  in  its  voice, 
And  if  the  deep  bore  any  frown  of  care, 
'Twas  softened  with  a  soporific  touch 
And  all  was  placid,  unresisting  there. 

Into  the  ocean  crept  the  zephyr's  plea, 

Into  the  zephyr  rose  the  sea's  response, 

And  their  souls  met  in  sweet  satiety. 

Thrilled  with  its  draught  of  love,  the  zephyr  swelled 

And  burst  into  the  fury  of  a  gale; 

And  like  a  soul,  when  first  it  knows  itself 

Is  infinite  and  deathless,  sought  the  blue, 

Borne  on  the  longing  of  its  misty  wings. 

Up,  up  she  soared,  the  spirit  of  the  cloud, 
Fraught  with  the  tender  hope  of  countless  lives, 
The  lullaby  that  woos  the  buds  to  bloom, 
And  holy  chant  that  nerves  the  pregnant  flower, 
That  it  e'en  gives  its  bloom,  yea  life  for  seed! 

Then  in  the  glances  of  the  smiling  morn 
She  blushed  to  crimson,  and  her  humid  soul 
Warmed  into  love  and  quivered  with  desire. 

Then  the  earth  waxed  faint  and  fainter  in  the  covering  of 

haze, 
And  the  hills  and  valleys  wavered  in  a  strange,  uncertain 

maze; 

Soon  a  bluster  and  a  rush  broke  the  ill-forboding  hush, 
And  the  passions  of  the  heavens  tore  the  earth's  dream 

with  their  gush; 

Then  down,  down,  down,  on  the  dry,  insatiate  brown 
Of  the  hillsides  and  the  meadows,  swept  the  flood  from 
heaven's  frown; 

14 


tbt  Divine  encbantment 

Spirits,  bright  and  flashing,  fleet,  spurned  the  air  with 
silver  feet, 

With  a  kind  of  mocking  laughter,  yet  a  melody  complete; 

In  a  wild,  uproarious  mirth,  dashed  themselves  upon  the 
earth, 

That  it  felt  a  thrill  of  passion  quiver  round  its  verdant 
-V -girth: 

And  the  erstwhile  whimpering  gale,  slipt  away  without  a 
wail, 

Drowsy  grown  with  draught  of  beauty  from  their  heaven- 
conjured  tale; 

There  was  hope  in  every  bud  and  warm  resolve  in  every 
seed; 

Rush  of  color  to  the  blossom,  pride  triumphant  in  the 
weed: 

Then  the  rivulets  cried  gladly  with  a  wild,  ecstatic  bound, 

And  the  ocean  fondly  quivered  with  a  consciousness  pro- 
found; 

And  the  seas  and  earth  and  heavens  throbbed  together 
like  a  brain, 

With  a  blessing  to  the  warm,  benignant  passion  of  the 
rain! 

Then  died  the  vision  with  the  ceasing  shower; 
A  wondrous  fragrance  wrapt  her  round  about, 
And  as  the  spirit  of  a  lowly  flower, 
She  felt  the  speechless  thrill  of  bursting  buds, 
When  weeping  Monsoon  woos  the  land  with  tears; 
She  felt  the  lust  of  the  unfolding  bloom, 
The  universal  dreaming  of  the  seed, 
That  dries  the  petal  in  its  hot  embrace! 

Then  in*  her  dream  night  crept  upon  the  world; 

She  slept  a  longing  in  a  bulbul's  heart, 

That  watched  and  listened  to  the  brooding  night; 

'5 


the  Divine  encbantraw 

She  saw  afar  within  the  dark  concave 

The  jewel  eyes  of  devas  pierce  the  gloom; 

But  lo!  with  face  that  paled  the  stars,  arose 

The  argent  pride  of  dusky  hemispheres, 

Beneath  whose  silver  kisses,  heaved  with  love 

The  deep,  true  breast  of  Ocean,  till  its  tremor 

Crept  to  the  distant  shores  where  lotus  flowers, 

Lapt  in  a  drowsy  fragrance,  felt  the  thrill, 

And  cast  a  sopor  o'er  the  earth  and  air; 

Then  felt  she  how  the  night-bird's  heart  can  throb, 

When  seeking  music  for  a  vital  song: 

She  felt  the  blood-warmth  and  the  hot  desires, 

Till  in  one  long,  wild  ecstacy  of  notes 

Her  spirit  poured  forth  glowing  on  the  breeze, 

That  fell  to  calm;  and  down  the  forest  shades 

She  fled  a  dying  symphony,  that  dim, 

And  dimmer  quivered  in  the  moonlit  air, 

Till  but  a  fragrant  memory  was  left 

That  e'en  itself  soon  perished  in'  the  bloom. 

Then  felt  she  what  it  is  to  live,  yet  die; 

To  sweetly  languish  like  a  sound  away, 

To  fade  like  fragrance  from  a  fitful  gale, 

And  perish?    Ah,  within  her  quivered  yet 

A  thrill  undying,  for  if  life  be  life, 

It  cannot  die,  but  boundless  as  the  Void, 

And  strangely  endless  as  the  circled  years, 

Must  throb  forever  through  the  coarser  world, 

The  world  of  matter,  that  it  form,  destroy, 

Shoot  up  in  trees,  breathe  fragrant  in  the  flower, 

Yea,  be  a  fancy  in  a  sage's  brain! 

Then  knew  she  first  the  deathlessness  of  life; 
How  infinite  the  beating  of  a  pulse; 
Far  through  the  realms  of  space  her  spirit  spread, 

16 


tbe  Divine  enchantment 

Beyond  the  limit  where  poor  finitude 
Fades  in  its  boasts,  and  grows  itself  a  part 
Of  one  immutable,  harmonious  throb! 

Then  broke  the  glory  of  an  eveless  day; 

Then  shone  the  brilliance  of  a  boundless  truth: 

She  saw  the  worlds  swing  to  a  choral  chant, 

Around  the  centre  of  a  common  will; 

And  each  an  atom  in  a  mighty  brain, 

Through  which  melodious  consciousness  did  flash, 

To  which  the  musing  of  an  earthly  seer 

Were  dreamless  sleep:  here  felt  the  soul  no  wish 

For  fabled  golden  city  jewel-decked, 

Where  mild-eyed  Indolence  awakes  the  harp; 

The  ever-widening,  vast,  cerulean  dome, 

With  ever-rising  nave,  where  systems  flash 

In  fret-work  intricate,  is  fane  enough 

For  thee,  O  Soul  of  all  things,  Life  of  all; 

The  sympathetic  worlds  are  harp  enough 

Through  which  thou  canst  thy  melodies  outpour; 

The  roaring  suns  thy  holy  altars  burn, 

Tho'  not  with  death,  to  glut  a  fabled  wrath, 

Nor  blood,  to  paint  withal  a  nightmare's  hate! 

Speech  broke  unprompted  from  the  dreamer's  lips: 

"O  varied  power,  sightless  architect, 

We  find  thee  drowsy  at  the  poppy's  heart, 

We  find  thee  wakeful  in  the  laughing  child; 

We  hate  thee,  hating  in  the  reptile's  eye, 

We  love  thee,  loving  in  the  maiden's  blush; 

We  breathe  thy  breath,  and  love  thee  witlessly; 

We  glow  with  thee  through  every  crimson  vein; 

Sandaled  with  consciousness  thou  treadest  the  dim 

And  mystic  labyrinth  of  subtle  brain, 

And  passion  blows  in  flowers  beneath  thy  charm 


tbe  Divine 


And  thrill  of  footfall;  and  betimes  thou  comest 

Clad  in  the  sable  of  the  thunder  cloud 

And  through  the  veins  Greatest  liquid  storm; 

And  'God'  we  call  thee,  but  thou  speakest  not 

Tho'  faith  grow  cold  upon  the  lips  of  men. 

And  still  we  falter  for  the  dumb  to  speak, 

And  petulant,  pine  into  cynic's  doubts, 

While  all  about  us  fragrance  breathes  a  dream, 

And  nearby  doth  the  streamlet  improvise! 

O  thou  who  art  the  living  of  the  world, 

Unveil  to  me  the  face  of  the  true  sun, 

Now  hidden  by  a  ray  of  golden  light." 

Whereat,  upon  her  burst  a  deluge  vast 
Of  luminous  fury,  as  upon  the  fiends 
Of  nether  night  within  the  blind  abyss, 
Broke  the  first  dawning  of  the  myriad  suns! 

Upon  the  flood  the  Spirit  of  the  Deeps 
Shone  like  a  sun;  star-shod  it  strode  and  vast, 
Crowned  with  a  thousand  rays;  Essential  Day, 
The  positive  of  being,  Light  and  Truth, 
Whose  name  the  gods  but  utter  to  revere! 

And  soon  from  out  the  brilliance  sprang  anew 
What  should  be  voice,  for  it  was  eloquent 
Beyond  all  speaking;  yet  it  rather  seemed 
A  new-born  element,  that  steeped  the  soul 
•  In  profound  knowledge,  suited  unto  it 
As  ear  and  eye  are  formed  for  sound  and  light: 
And  so  flowed  forth  the  mystic,  lucent  words 
Unto  the  silent  question  of  her  soul. 


18 


tfc*  Divifte  enchantment 


III. 
INTERLUDE. 

As  soars  the  cliff  above  the  dusky  vale 
And  laves  its  summit  in  the  eastern  glow; 
Respeaking  faintly  some  far  song  or  wail 
Unto  itself,  and  to  the  mist  below; 
Thus  would  I  soar  and  meet  the  Morning  so, 
And  thus,  though  stone-like,  echo  a  far  cry; 
More  kindred  to  the  dusk  that  clings  below 
Than  to  the  glory  of  the  Morn,  thus  I 
Revive  a  fainting  voice,  where  many  echoes  die. 

The  perfume  of  the  lotus  dies  away 

And  sunflowers  smile  their  broad,  plebeian  smile; 

No  bulbul  steals  my  willing  sense  to-day, 

But  on  the  fence  the  blackbird  brawls  the  while; 

The  world  moves  conscious  of  the  jealous  dial; 

The  sun  drags  senseless,  where  once  Surya  sprang; 

And  so  I  speak  with  self-condemning  smile 

In  heavy  words,  that  once,  light-winged,  sang 

And  twang  a  rusty  string,  where  once  a  lyre  rang! 

Those  brain-flowers  subtle  Fancy  rears  to  bloom, 

Yet  rarely  blow  in  beauty  on  the  lip; 

Unchilled  by  death  and  fearless  of  the  tomb, 

Tho*  sable  Kala,  frowning  darkly,  dip 

His  shafts  in  liquid  flame  Raskchasos  sip, 

These  blooms  I  plant  in  more  unkindly  sod; 

Yet  doth  a  pigmy  scarce  presume  to  skip 

Along  the  Blue;  nor  with  Earth's  metal  shod, 

Essay  to  take  the  charmed,  bright  footprints  of  a  God! 

19 


the  Divine  enchantment 

Succeeding  ages  lower  drag  the  skies, 

And  heavens  dwindle  as  the  seasons  wane; 

In  vain  we  lift  to  thee,  O  Brahm,  our  eyes; 

And  hosts  of  worn-out  Gods  are  sought  in  vain: 

Jehovah  toils  to  break  Trimourti's  reign; 

(Wert  thou  eternal  I  would  call  to  thee) 

O  Arbiter  of  orbits,  joy  and  pain, 

Who  art  the  one  unfathomed,  restless  sea, 

O  Nameless  Source,  now  breathe  a  lotus  charm  on  me! 


20 


the  Divine  Enchantment 


IV. 
BIRTH  OF  BRAHM. 

Broad  Chaos  slept;  all  stillness,  blind,  dumb  stillness; 

E'en  such  a  tremor  as  within  the  mind 

Wakes  troubled  dream,  upon  the  drowsy  ear 

Of  vast  Tranquility  had  roared  a  storm, 

And  shaken  Space  from  its  cold  sleep  to  wake 

In  feverish  orbits,  zones  of  burning  life! 

In  pulseless  dissolution  slumbered  on 
The  embryon  elements;  and  the  throneless  Vast 
Was  needless  of  a  king,  who  had  been  realmless. 
Yet  through  the  murky  silence  restless  crept 
The  Principle  of  Being;  (in  whose  throes, 
Hopes,  fears  and  all  the  future  Cosmos'  throbs 
Yet  dumbly  struggled  'gainst  their  latency) 
The  Cause  of  cause,  retreating  unto  cause 
In  tireless  succession  through  the  night; 
Dumb  spirit,  conjured  of  Attraction  warm 
'Twixt  molecules  chaotic;  soul  of  storm; 
The  brooding  Spirit  in  the  calm;  the  heat 
Of  genial  suns;  the  comet's  hissing  hate; 
And  vitalizing  quiver  of  the  pulse. 

Unheeded  swept  the  ages  o'er  the  deep 
With  uncorrosive  haste:  for  fleeting  Time, 
The  potent  pulse  of  e'er  evolving  change, 
By  man  alone  in  his  finite  conceit 
And  vanity  of  being,  is  bid  stay 
Lest  it  should  lull  the  momentary  itch 
He  hoards  within  his  pulses;  Ages  rolled 
Their  empty  circles;  and  meanwhile  the  Deeps 

21 


tte  Divint  enchantment 

Fervescent  by  attraction  of  their  parts, 

Were  wild  in  ferment;  and  their  atoms  dumb 

Grew  plastic  'neath  the  Spirit's  thoughtless  will 

And  waxing  sentient,  bodied  forth  a  God, 

Huge  Demiurge,  who  reveled  in  the  sway 

Of  primal  consciousness,  the  paradox 

Of  erstwhile  Night  and  Chaos  with  her  aeons! 

And  thus  awaking  from  insentient  sleep 

Unto  a  dazzling  realm  of  knowing,  He, 

The  master  of  the  meaning  of  the  spell 

Of  "I  am  I"  that  baffles  circumspection, 

Marveled  at  all;  and  as  a  babe  might  laugh 

To  hear  the  rattle  of  his  toy,  new-bought, 

He  was  ecstatic  with  the  tingling  thrill 

And  thoughtful  quiver  of  each  nerve;  his  pulse 

Woke  tense  vibrations  in  his  awful  brain, 

And  each  concordant  unto  each,  they  swayed 

His  being  unto  longings  that  were  sounds; 

And  somewhat  thus  the  crescent  God  might  muse: — 

"Being? 

Form? 

Aware  of  being? 

To  know  of  form? 

And  what  knows? 

And  where  is  that  which  knows? 

Can  it  be  that  which  never  was  before 

That  feels  and  knows?    It  is  not  that,  that  is  not, 

For  that  which  knows  was  not  a  short  while  past! 

Ah!  'trnay  be  these  strange  beings  (gazing  at  hands)  get 

thee  near! 

Aha,  thou  comest  when  the  Something  wills, 
Perhaps  the  Something's  minion,  not  the  Something, 
And  these  (gazing  at  body  and  limbs)  I  wish  to  know  thee: 
ho!  they  move; 

22 


the  Divine  enchantment 

They  move  when  Something  wishes  that  they  move; 

Then  these  and  those  are  minions,  not  the  Something! 

It  seems  naught  is  beside  just  these  and  those 

And  that  which  feeleth,  knoweth,  seeth;  strange! 

Methinks  the  Something  dwelleth  in  myself, 

So  near  akin  we  be  in  what  we  wish 

So  near  akin  it  must  be  same  as  I. 

And  then  I  am;  but  was  not  some  while  past? 

And  can  aught  be   that  was   not?     What   strange   fun! 

(laughs) 

Hark!  whence  those  beings  that  rushed  through  my  brain 
And  shrieked  so  gaily?     Nothing?  then  'twas  I. 

"Ah,  this  is  marvelous;  alas,  alone? 
Am  I  alone,  who  feels,  thinks,  knows,  all  these, 
And  none  to  serve  me  whom  I  found  so  regal? 
There  shall  be  servitors,  by  that  weird  name 
I  feel  within  me  like  a  spell;  I  swear 
There  shall  be  servitors;  ho,  sluggish  shades 
Awake,  and  let  me  hear  thee  raise  thy  sounds 
To  praise  me!    Wake!  or  I  shall  speak  the  name 
That  slumbers  in  my  pulses,  but  shall  lash 
Thy  sluggish  stupor  into  wakefulness, 
That  sleeps  not  through  eternities  of  pain! 
Wake,  by  the  name  of  OM,  I  bid  thee  wake, 
And  praise  me!" 

Thus  spoke  the  God,  and  Distance,  shuddering  heard; 
And  Height  and  Depth  of  darkness  heard  and  groaned: 
Till  with  one  mighty  impulse  rose  the  din 
Of  wild  awakening,  and  the  Vast  broke  forth 
In  one  deep  thunder  that  shall  never  die, 
But  be  the  menace  of  the  groaning  spheres, 
Till  Ajakava  free  them;  and  that  cry, 
Burned  with  the  uttered  syllables, 
"HAIL  BRAHM!" 

23 


tbe  Divine  encbantment 


V. 
PROCREATION. 

Divine  Unrest,  thou  art  the  God  eterne; 
Thy  fevered  dream  is  being's  only  stay; 
Disordered  space  awakens  when  you  yearn, 
And  night  glows  ruddy  into  perfect  day: 
Thou  art  the  spirit  of  each  sun's  swift  ray; 
Along  the  trackless  Vast  thy  moan  hath  dwelt, 
And  silver  orbits  paved  the  stars'  dark  way: 
Where'er  thy  dream  hath  rankled,  Void  hath  felt 
Her  icy  blood  bound  warm  and  into  being  melt! 

Upon  a  time,  Brahm  discontented  grew 

With  excess  of  contentment;  for  in  vain 

Time  o'er  his  cloudless  contemplation  flew, 

Nor  stirred  the  tranquil  summer  of  his  brain; 

He  longed  for  storm,  commotion,  blight  or  bain 

Or  aught  that  might  alleviate  a  mind 

Now  satiate  with  peace;  'Twere  pleasing  pain, 

That  might  for  him  a  new  existence  find; 

But  weary  grew  the  God,  and  slumbered  as  he  pined. 

Like  drowsy  moments  flew  the  ages  fleet, 

With  dreary  monotone  of  endless  yearning; 

His  thought  was  glowing  with  a  fevered  heat, 

He  dreamed  the  Void,  like  his  own  mind,  was  burning, 

And  writhing,  hissing,  in  vast  circles  turning; 

Desire  swept  throughout  him  like  a  storm, 

And  soon  in  ecstacy  he  was  discerning 

From  his  own  warmth,  Infinity  wax  warm; 

With  sympathetic  pulse  to  vibrate  into  form! 

24 


the  Divine  enchantment 

A  mystic  spirit  from  his  vision  crept 

And  over  Chaos  lover-like  it  hung, 

That,  forthwith  humbled  in  its  fury,  slept 

And  murmured  fondly  as  the  spirit  sung 

A  song  unlike  the  trilling  of  a  tongue, 

But  harmony  ineffable,  divine, 

That,  loathing  death,  still  unto  being  clung; 

And  Force  and  Matter,  wedded,  ceased  to  pine, 

But  slept,  lulled  by  the  bliss  of  amorous  entwine. 

Transcendent  is  the  love  that  mortals  know, 
When  two  fond  dreamers  swoon  in  soft  caress; 
Adrift  upon  their  dalliant  passions  flow, 
Like  birds  that  float  on  zephyr's  happiness; 
For  their's  is  ravishment  than  gods'  scarce  less; 
Their  pulse  shall  quiver  through  a  lengthened  line; 
Creation's  raptured  touch  they  each  possess, 
Which  each  doth  worship  at  the  other's  shrine: 
She  is  a  Goddess  chaste,  and  he  a  God  divine: 

But  such  is  shadow  of  a  taintless  sun: 

Warm-veined  grew  Chaos  with  the  potent  kiss; 

Throughout  her  vastness  heated  storm  did  run, 

Whose  uncurbed  lightning  scathed  with  many  a  hiss, 

Arousing  Night  in  every  vein,  to  bliss 

And  dreams  of  morning,  dawning  bold  and  fair; 

Awaking  life  dispelled  her  drowsiness; 

Such  love  had  not  been  and  it  shall  be  ne'er, 

As  gave  the  ages  wings  above  this  primal  pair! 

Not  the  soft-curtained  love  of  nuptial  bed, 
That  yields  the  blushing  maid  a  flitting  night; 
But  of  the  tigress  in  the  jungle  bred, 
Submitting  fiercely  to  the  lustful  fight: 
Without  the  nuptial  torches'  langorous  light; 

25 


Divine  enchantment 

But  'round  them  stealthy,  dreamful  Silence  drew 
The  curtains  of  unbounded  darkness  tight; 
And  each  in  madness  to  the  other  flew, 
With  seething,  flaming  lust  in  one  hot  fury  grew! 

E'en  now  upon  thy  orb  of  shade  and  mist, 

Where  man,  hysteric,  grumbles  for  an  hour; 

All  that  hath  made  him  able  to  exist, 

All  that  hath  wreathed  his  care-expelling  bower, 

All  that  hath  warmed  his  veins  with  pride  or  power, 

Is  an  inherent  memory,  still  warm, 

Bursting  within  the  brain  like  scented  flower, 

Of  that  first  thrill,  when  formless  breathed  to  form, 

And  zephyr-like  it  croons  of  when  it  flashed,  a  storm! 

Deep  in  the  womb  of  Chaos  grew  the  dream, 

As  thought  builds  image  in  the  toiling  brain; 

The  unborn  glory  of  each  stellar  beam, 

The  wrath  of  tempest,  mercy  of  the  rain, 

The  worlds,  the  depths,  in  one,  unbounded  pain, 

Groaned,  writhing  to  their  birth;  and  then  at  last, 

Fired  by  inactivity's  disdain, 

Her  progeny  the  pregnant  Chaos  cast 

Forth  with  a  deathless  wail,  and  died,  her  birth-pangs  past! 

O,  martyred  mother,  Deity  maternal, 

Who  gavest  the  life-pulse  to  all  things  that  be; 

Thy  heavenly  offspring  in  their  march  diurnal, 

Chant  one  grand  requiem,  swelling  e'er  to  thee; 

The  sonorous  sadness  of  the  wailing  sea 

Forgets  thee  not;  the  night-bird  knows  thy  wail, 

And  pours  its  tremulous  infelicity 

With  the  dull  note  of  the  as  mournful  gale, 

A  prayerful,  cadent  sob,  and  a  most  touching  tale; 

,C        26 


t*t  Divine  enchantment 

As  if  when  thou  didst  give  the  magic  fire, 
That  heats  the  lightning,  and  the  sage's  thought, 
Pathetic  prescience  of  thy  doom,  so  dire, 
Like  tuneless  string  in  lyre,  darkly  wrought 
A  minor  chord,  half  beautiful,  that  naught 
Could  charm  to  silence;  O,  that  thou  couldst  deign 
To  speak,  but  thou  art  silent,  yet  has  taught, 
Innately,  martyrs  how  to  smile  in  pain, 
For  thou  didst  fade  in  death,  that  Life  might  deathless 
reign! 

Forth  in  a  flood  of  light  the  new-born  fly, 

Loud,  regal  suns,  and  moons,  subdued  and  meek; 

The  comet,  wild  misanthrope  of  the  sky, 

Seeming  naught  but  forgetfulness  to  seek: 

Appointed  paths  the  sturdy  give  the  weak; 

The  sun  is  law  unto  the  satellite; 

And  here  and  there  an  isolated  clique 

Of  independent  stars  refresh  the  night, 

And  all  the  Boundless  throbs  with  new-developed  light! 

And  lo!  the  Cosmos  breathed  a  living  whole: 

Suns  'rose  on  darkened  worlds;  clouds  formed  and  flashed; 

Storm  swept  like  pulse  of  madness  through  a  soul 

And  broke  in  tender  tears;  waves  foamed  and  dashed 

On  barren  shores,  that  trembled,  half  abashed 

At  the  sun's  kisses  and  the  Ocean's  thrill, 

And  with  desire  warmed;  then  through  them  flashed 

A  pregnant  promise,  till  each  dale  and  hill 

Fed  at  its  beating  breast  the  offspring  of  hiph  Will! 

I 

And  all  was  lovely:  Day  was  fair  to  see; 
Night  had  her  opiate  charm,  her  lovely  eyes; 
And  slumber  fell  with  sweet  felicity 
Of  unbound  dreams  down  from  the  mystic  skies: 

27 


tbt  Divine  enchantment 

But  in  his  dream  Brahm  wept  and  shook  with  sighs 

For  something  lov'lier;  restless  did  he  pine; 

But  lo!  from  his  unrest  he  saw  arise 

A  thing  that  laughed,  wept,  loved  in  one  sun's  shine, 

Strange  being  wrought  of  earth,  yet  part  of  him,  divine! 

And  there  he  stood  within  his  natal  vale, 
And  cried  about  him,  but  the  fields  said  naught; 
A  varied  music  trembled  in  the  gale 
And  oft  repeated  what  he  vainly  sought; 
The  flower  looked  up  with  explanation  fraught, 
And  little  heeded  was  its  speechless  worth; 
But  breaking  idols,  lately  fondly  wrought, 
With  all  his  gladness,  sadness,  sank  to  earth, 
Phenomenon  divine  of  madness  and  of  mirth! 

Wild  with  the  hot  ephemera,  called  life; 

Fierce  in  the  clutches  of  a  useless  woe; 

With  eyes  that  saw  not  whence  the  clouds  of  strife, 

And  desperately  deeming  he  could  do 

Naught  but  to  die;  'twere  pardonably  so, 

That  he,  half  god,  should  menial  be,  and  fawn, 

Wresting  from  silence  a  most  wordy  flow 

Of  promise  of  some  land  where  good  have  gone, 

And  thus  his  sunless  skies  envermeil  with  false  dawn! 

And  thou,  Oblivion,  from  thy  sable  isle, 

Speak  of  thy  wealth  in  dumb  deific  shades; 

All-conquering  Theomachist,  why  smile 

When  man's  cold  fancy  leaves  his  God  that  fades? 

Gods  on  thy  hills,  and  gods  within  thy  glades,    , 

Yet  still  art  thou  insatiate,  and  while, 

Man  still  shall  ply  this  paradox  of  trades, 

Theogony,  thou  shalt  by  thy  swift  guile 

Receive  his  handiwork,  and  him  with  changeless  smile! 

•:        28 


tfce  Divine  enchantment 

But  e'er  behind  his  rows  of  fashioned  gods, 

His  rude  conceptions,  rudelier  put  in  clay; 

Insensible  unto  his  prayers  and  nods, 

A  broader  being  throbs  through  night  and  day; 

And  they  are  truest  devotees  who  say, 

"Where'er  the  Principle  of  Being  warms, 

Man,  beast,  the  flower,  the  tree,  or  what  you  may, 

All  things,  my  fellows,  though  in  varied  forms, 

Nor  can  I  boast  a  pulse  more  god-like,  than  the  storm's!' 

And  more  than  merely  fondly  may  we  deem 

The  whole  Vast  conscious  with  a  thought  unknown; 

Haunting  the  systems,  as  hugh  brain's  dream, 

Out  of  the  planets'  fixed  relation  grown; 

Binding  the  orbs  in  many  a  conjuring  zone 

Of  weird  illusion,  which  could  we  forego 

And  that  all-potent  thought  be  felt  and  known, 

Would  then  not  through  our  minds  omniscience  flow, 

And  we  that  Being  learn,  to  which  all  gods  are  low? 

But  wrapt  in  cloud,  our  dreams  are  black  with  night; 

Life  seems  a  tale  too  tedious  to  be  heard 

Unto  its  anti-climax;  like  the  flight 

Of  darkness'  sable,  silence-pinioned  bird, 

Our  thought  flits  through  wild  ruins,  weirdly  stirred 

By  its  dark,  retrospective  flight  alone; 

The  cloud-born  Present  can  not  speak  a  word 

Of  promise;  the  dead  Past  is  Ruin's  own; 

And  so  the  earth  is  wrapt  in  one  unending  moan; 

Until  it  seems  as  though  the  fevered  Vast, 
Like  mortal  dreamer,  brooding  fondly  long; 
Swept  down  the  current  of  his  musing,  fast, 
Waxing  in  heat,   and  swelling  fiercely  strong, 
Has  lost  the  thread  of  its  once  joyous  song, 

29 


tfce  Divine  Enchantment 

To  drone  discordant,  melancholy  strains; 
And  darkly  drifting  into  murky  wrong, 
Hath  earth  o'erstrewn  with  Doubt's  contending  fanes, 
Till  dream  hath  dreamer  scourged,  and  bound  with  galling 
chains ! 

But  when  man  grew  from  chance-creating  sleep, 

A  jealous  gift,  unconsciously  let  fall, 

Slight  as  a  dewdrop  in  the  mighty  deep, 

Hath  all  but  freed  him  from  Brahm's  mystic  thrall 

And  weird  enchantment;  and  beyond  recall, 

That  gift  shall  make  him  deathless,  for  star-shod, 

The  Vast  shall  hold  no  tale  for  him  at  all; 

But  Gods  from  heavens  shall  tumble  at  his  nod, 

And  he  shall  leap  from  clay  and  truly  soar,  a  God! 

Thou  art  that  gift,  O  Reason,  soul  of  power, 
Thou  alcahest  of  earth's  illusive  dreams; 
'Twas  in  thy  ill-timed,  thy  incipient  hour, 
The  many  gods  arose  amid  their  schemes, 
Erratic  offspring  born  of  drowsy  dreams; 
But  thou  shalt  with  omnipotence  imbue 
This  earth-child,  till  he  be  whate'er  he  deems; 
And  bidding  ye,  Celestial  Shades,  adieu, 
Shall  mount  those  empty  thrones  he  fondly  wrought  for 
you! 

But  still  he  grovels,  and  the  dupe  is  still, 

Of  midnight  moralists  who  prate  of  light; 

Deeming  it  holy  to  subdue  his  will 

And  brook  the  chainless  spirit  in  its  flight; 

Hoping  for  day,  yet  living  in  the  night, 

When  nearby  doth  an  eveless,  vast  day  burn; 

Nor  with  horizon  to  retard  the  sight 

With  circumscribing  glitter;  let  him  turn, 

And  drink  immortal  rays,  e'er  eye,  is  dust  in  urn! 

.r  30 


tbe  Divine  enchantment 

Ephemeron,  thou  dweller  in  a  cloud, 

Well  mayest  thou  cry,  unanswered  through  the  storm, 

"Will  all  my  breath  be  stifled  with  the  shroud, 

Or  shall  my  pulse  bound  ever,  nor  less  warm; 

Or  do  I  dwell  in,  and  thereto  conform, 

The  dream  of  some  great  consciousness,  nor  deem 

Myself,  as  I  am,  but  a  conjured  form 

Of  transcendental  Fancy;  do  I  seem, 

Or  be,  and  all  I  see  conception's  sensuous  dream? 

"Still  Brahma's  dream,  in  ever-widening  curves, 

Chants  through  the  systems  with  creating  thrill; 

But  hath  the  dreamer  wakened,  or  still  serves 

He  blindly  that  somnific,  dubious  will, 

That  vexes  him  with  darkness,  and  doth  fill 

His  mind,  which  is  the  universe,  with  storm; 

And  shall  we,  conscious  shadows,  flit  until 

He  wake  to  find  his  dream  alone  was  warm? 

O,  Sun  of  Truth,  burst  forth,  and  dissipate  the  storm!" 


the  Divine  enchantment 


VI. 
PRESERVATION. 

In  heaven's  high  portals,  where  glories  eterne 

With  myriad-times  earth's  solar  sparklings  burn, 

Sat  Vishnu;  the  stars  in  their  shame  fled  away 

Far  into  the  shades  of  the  realm  without  day. 

No  morning  breaks  here  with  its  wakening  smile; 

No  evening  fades  here,  casting  dark  dreams  the  while; 

For  Vishnu,  the  mighty,  bears  day  in  his  eye, 

And,  scanning  his  kingdom,  illumines  the  sky; 

'Tis  Vishnu  that  smiles,  and  we  revel  in  light; 

Tis  Vishnu  that  frowns,  and  we  grovel  in  night! 

In  the  portals  he  sat,  and  his  task  was  a  dream, 

That  nurtured  his  soul,  like  a  lotus-born  stream; 

He  sat  and  he  dreamed  'till  his  dreams  in  their  glow 

Had  circled  the  worlds  and  the  darkness  below; 

Like  a  talisman  sped  o'er  the  living  and  dead, 

And  lingered  with  love  where  his  mercy  had  fled. 

Then,  burning  with  rapture,  he  woke  from  his  vision, 

And  echoed  his  voice  through  the  temples  elysian: 

"Ho!  devas  of  heaven,  awake  from  your  dreams, 

And  hither  ye  sprites,  dew-besprent  from  your  streams, 

Let  all  of  the  hills,  and  each  lotus-strewn  dale, 

Be  charmed  from  the  spell  of  its  indolent  tale; 

Quaff  slumberous  amrita,  immortals  be  gay, 

I  gp  on  a  glorious  journey  to-day! 

Now  startles  the  sun  'neath  the  slumbering  earth, 

Soon  the  golden  Twilight  to  the  Day  shall  give  birth; 

But  I  hasten  away,  ere  the  break  of  the  day, 

Strewing  dream-laden  seeds  as  I  speed  on  my  way 

To  the  molten-gold  den  of  the  struggling  Day, 

••i  32 


tbt  Divine  enchantment 

Where  I'll  bind  him  forthwith  by  his  long,  flaming  hair, 
Before  he  can  waken  the  world  to  its  care; 
Then  a  dream  shall  unveil  until  mortals  their  fears, 
And  Illusion  shall  cast  down  the  sceptre  of  years; 
Then  waking,  this  dream  in  their  lives  bright  shall  live, 
Presaging  the  calm  that  Nirvana  can  give; 
Shall  lessen  the  weight  of  Sansara,  and  lo, 
The  Future  shall  whisper  wherever  they  go!" 

He  spoke,  nay,  he  sang,  and  his  song  was  his  deed; 

Then,  grasping  from  off  a  huge  lotus  its  seed 

Sprang  upon  a  broad  leaf  of  the  plant,  and  away 

Sped  off  toward  the  den  of  the  wakening  Day. 

Heaven's  light  soon  was  past,  and  the  shades  of  the  world 

Now  around  like  the  wings  of  a  huge  bird  were  furled; 

And  closing  his  eyes,  lest  the  shadows  should  fail, 

He  pinioned  his  flight  over  hilltop  and  dale: 

Over  ocean  he  sped,  and  the  lotus-charm  bore 

Surcease  to  its  unrest  and  silenced  its  roar; 

Over  rivers  he  flew,  and  quick  dropping  their  glee, 

They  lost  all  their  dreams  and  their  hopes  of  the  sea; 

And  moveless  they  stood,  yet  the  ripple  was  left, 

Nor  gone  was  the  eddy  by  jutting  rock  cleft; 

Each  seemed  but  a  river  from  some  artist's  brush 

Or  stream  of  a  dream  in  a  magical  hush. 

He  flew  o'er  the  city,  that  groaned  in  its  sleep, 

But  it  soon  fell  to  visions  of  rapture  and  deep; 

For  each  seed  that  was  dropped,  was  a  flower  ere  it  fell 

And  burdened  the  air  with  a  wonderful  spell! 

But  just  as  the  Sun  smiled  with  anticipation 

Of  zenith  aflaming,  a  glorious  station, 

Lo!  Vishnu  was  there;  by  the  long,  flaming  hair, 

He  bound  Surya  tight  in  his  much-loathed  lair; 

Then  round  the  bright  eyes  cast  a  black  thunder-cloud 

And  chained  was  the  brilliant,  the  boastful,  the  proud! 

33 


tfce  Divine  €ttcfca»intcm 

Then  back  through  the  gloom,  through  the  heavenly  light, 
Sped  Vishnu  with  all  of  anxiety's  flight; 
He  entered  the  portals,  and  heavenly  choirs 
Broke  forth  with  the  magic  of  languishing  lyres, 
While  over  earth's  every  dale,  hilltop  and  stream 
Hovered  darkly  the  mist  of  a  wonderful  dream. 

The  Dream. 

Hung  the  Cosmos  over  JEther's  vibrant  billow, 
As  a  sorrow  darkly  hovers  o'er  a  brain; 
Black  as  hate  that  finds  the  heart  a  troubled  pillow; 
As  a  minor  god's  weak  curse  that  fell  in  vain! 

And  the  planets,  toy-like  whirred  without  a  meaning, 
Doomed  all  futilely  their  goalless  paths  to  plod; 
Set  by  idle  hands  throughout  the  Vast  careening, 
To  beguile  the  puerile  moment  of  a  god! 

And  upon  them  the  embodied  souls  of  fever, 
Robbed  of  sameness  with  the  vast  Tranquility, 
By  the  spell  of  some  deific  arch-deceiver, 
Who  hath  cursed  them  by  commanding  that  they  be! 

Who  hath  snatched  from  out  the  slumberous  pulsed  ocean 
Of  Infinitude,  a  throb,  and  with  a  leer, 
Sent  it  hot  through  many  a  sanguine,  torturous  motion, 
Pleased  at  that  resulting  paradox — a  tear; 

Hurled  it  conscious  through  the  veins  of  pains  and  terror, 
Through  the  fierce,  plethoric  pulse  of  lust  and  greed; 
Painted  pleasures  that  should  lead  it  on  to  error, 
Fashioned  punishment  to  recompense  the  deed. 

But  the  dark  cloud  of  the  Cosmos  like  a  vision 
Or  an  angry  storm,  swept  past  and  all  was  still; 
Fled  .diversity  and  all  the  gods'  derision 
Ceased  the  feuds  of  each  contending  human  will! 

34 


tbc  Divine  enchantment 

And  the  thoughtless  pulse  forgot  its  painful  being, 
With  the  dubious  errant  passions  that  befell; 
While  the  gods  from  out  their  fashioned  heavens  fleeing, 
Sank  forgotten  'neath  Nirvana  and  its  spell! 

********* 
Now  the  morn  was  grown  old,  and  Vishnu  in  the  feast 
Had  often  gazed  off  to  the  impatient  East; 
And  now,  springing  onto  his  leaf,  sped  away 
Toward  the  wrath-reddened  den  of  the  raving,  bound  Day. 
Then  he  broke  the  strong  chains  from  the  long,  flaming 

hair, 

And,  fuming  with  rage,  sprang  the  sun  from  his  lair: 
Then  the  heavens  grew  bright,  and  the  stars  with  a  wail 
Shot  out  of  the  sky  like  a  crystaline  hail: 
And  the  Moon,  dozing  still,  with  her  confident  glow, 
Melted  off  in  the  light  like  a  crescent  of  snow! 
Then  the  river  leapt  on  with  a  tinkling  glee 
And  the  waters  dashed  high  on  the  startling  sea: 
And  now  as  the  Day  was  aflame  in  the  skies 
The  whole  world  awoke  with  a  burst  of  surprise! 

Long  seasons  have  past,  and  the  lotus  is  rife 

With  oblivious  dreams  in  that  age  and  its  life; 

But  the  weary  world  since  the  same  dream  has  dreamed  oft, 

While  martyrs  have  died  for  it,  skeptics  have  scoffed: 

To  some  'twas  a  tale  for  ridiculous  mirth, 

Not  fit  for  the  toils  and  the  broils  of  an  earth: 

To  some,  in  despondence  and  gloom  of  the  night, 

A  shimmering,  glimmering,  unfading  light: 

And  when  from  the  crown  of  the  mounts  would  rush  down 

The  storm,  with  its  teeth  and  its  voice  of  a  hound; 

And  the  whips  of  the  gale,  with  the  fury  of  hail, 

Would  waken  the  sprites  of  the  air  to  a  wail; 

They  trustingly  slept  'till  the  heavens  should  smile 

And  the  lotus-dream  guarded  them  safely  the  while. 

35 


the  Divine  enchantment 


VII. 
DISSOLUTION. 

The  time  had  come,  the  hoary  years  were  still, 

Another  age  had  rounded  to  a  close; 

Inevitable  as  ocean  blends  with  rill, 

The  law  that  blows  and  blights  each  summer  rose, 

Had  proven  Time  as  fallible  as  those; 

Degeneration  wove  the  worlds  a  shroud; 

Far  off,  where  solar  rays  in  darkness  froze, 

Wild  Chaos  led  her  jealous  hosts  of  cloud, 

Against  the  golden  worlds,  and  wailed  her  wrath  aloud! 

The  vital  Will  had  burned  its  being  cold; 

Its  flame  had  smouldered  into  vast  disease; 

The  Earth's  proud  pulse  throbbed  not  with  magic  old, 

And  discontent  was  vocal  in  her  seas: 

Naught  could  she  give  her  offspring,  but  the  lees 

Of  vanished  vintage,  which  did  fail  to  sate 

The  universal  fever's  frenzied  pleas: 

And  Life,  that  loved  its  being  so  of  late, 

Gazed  at  itself  at  last,  and  vanished  with  hot  hate! 

And  Kala,  crouching  in  the  nether  gloom, 
Beholding  fear  creep  o'er  each  aged  world, 
As  though  it  gazed  in  some  colossal  tomb, 
His  stormy  banner,  long  unswept  and  furled, 
He  cast  into  the  cloud  his  frenzy  whirled; 
Then  fondly  tested  Ajakava's  might, 
From  which  the  bolt  of  death  he  erst  had  hurled, 
And  raised  his  pinions,  bat-like,  clouds  of  night, 
Long  alien  to  the  thrill  of  swoop  in  godly  flight. 

36 


tftt  Bioin*  enchantment 

The  silence  deep,  that  weighed  upon  him  long, 

Now  found  a  voice  to  utter  its  mad  dreams; 

The  melancholy  of  inaction,  strong, 

Now  like  a  cloud,  when  golden  Surya  gleams 

Across  dark  fields  and  gloom-oppressed  streams, 

Fell  off  like  sable  snow,  and  loudly  broke 

In  thunder;  and  the  orbitless  stars'  beams 

Refused  to  glow,  as  fearful  of  the  stroke, 

Then  like  a  whirling  storm  he  thundered  more  than  spoke: 

"Ye  boastful  orbs  that  revel  in  a  day 

That  by  thy  glowing  vanity  is  cast; 

Still  sweetly  dreaming  'tis  the  quenchless  ray, 

Know  ye  that  darkness  is  thy  doom  at  last; 

No  more  thou'lt  trip  along  thy  orbits  fast 

On  silver  sandals;  poppied  Night  shall  sleep 

Upon  them  with  a  spell;  the  haunting  Past 

Through  space  all  tenantless,  shall  wail  and  weep 

And  Kala,  lord  of  lords,  shall  slumber  on  the  deep." 

Thereat  sprang  forth  like  dark  waves  of  the  seas, 
With  many  an  imprecation,  many  a  scream, 
Assouras,  Nagas,  Sarpas,  Pisatches, 
Dark  as  the  flight  of  hate-distempered  dream; 
With  lurid  light  their  hungry  orbs  did  gleam, 
Their  plumeless  pinions  shrieked  in  dizzy  flight; 
The  spirits  of  the  Skull  God's  words  would  seem, 
These  imps  of  hate,  that  in  dark  doom  bedight, 
Unbridled  rode  the  gloom  and  fury  of  the  Night. 

Behind  them  strove  the  consciousness  of  death 
With  wild  destruction  that  the  fiends  had  wrought; 
Too  fierce  they  seemed  to  be  the  things  of  breath, 
But  rather  darkling  and  abortive  thought, 
Within  the  Vast  a  brain  where  Pain  had  wrought, 

37 


tne  Divine  Enchantment 

Harmonious  dreams  to  wild  insanity; 

Or  from  the  Anarch's  frenzied  mind  had  caught, 

A  self-consuming  rage;  each  demon's  cry 

Hung  on  the  swooning  air,  and  moaned  but  could  not  die! 

"We  mirror  our  hate  in  the  hollow  eye, 

We  lurkingly  laugh  in  the  last  parting  sigh; 

We  see  by  dead  eyes'  light, 

We  breathe  by  the  sigh's  flight; 

Our  blood  is  past  life's  blood, 

The  murderer's  knife's  blood, 

Wild,  sanguine-souled  Strife's  blood, 

Our  living  is  death: 

We  creep  in  the  brain's  thought, 

And  fill  it  with  strains,  wrought 

Of  Madness'  hot  breath; 

Thus  fettered  the  free  soul, 

The  skull  is  our  ghee-bowl, 

And  Life  is  a  banquet  for  Death! 

"Then  on,  we  have  slumbered 
By  darkness  encumbered, 
For  ages  unnumbered, 
Life  triumphs  the  while: 

"The  myriad  scintillant  spheres, 
Vain  in  the  pride  of  years, 
Jest  of  their  waiting  biers 
With -silver  smile: 

"Over  their  pompous  light 
Sweep  we  with  sable  flight, 
Stifle  their  Day  with  night, 
Darken  their  dial." 

38 


tlK  Divine  encbantitient 

The  Void  was  wrapped  in  universal  storm 

And  Death  lay  gorged,  where  ruddy  Life  had  stept, 

Whose  quivering  footprints,  charmed  and  glowing  warm, 

Now  chilled  beneath  the  strange  God's  tread  and  slept; 

And  dreaming  Brahm  among  the  ruins  crept, 

A  latent  spirit  without  aim  or  will; 

The  childless  Past  within  the  shadows  wept; 

Thus  Life  and  Death  strove  bitterly,  until 

Wild  Chaos  swept  the  deeps,  and  satiate,  was  still. 

So  now  the  doom  was  wrought;  O,  smouldering  orb, 

Speak  from  thy  glooms,  what  art  thou  but  a  spark? 

My  soul  at  thee  once  awed,  it  did  absorb 

From  thee  conceptions  of  what  eyes  ne'er  mark; 

And  it  grew  humble  to  thee,  and  did  hark 

To  visionary  voices  of  thy  will; 

Thou  once  wert  God  to  me;  avaunt!  dead  spark, 

Thou  palest,  but  my  soul  by  its  own  will, 

Is  overflowed  with  day,  without  thee  revels  still. 

Thou  wert  my  God;  for  at  thy  glance,  the  earth 

Blushed  like  a  maiden  in  her  bridal  night, 

And  fruitful  grew;  around  its  verdant  girth, 

Thou  spreadest  a  charm,  and  wreathed  a  smile  of  light; 

Clouds  formed  and  thundered  at  thy  regal  sight; 

Thou  wert  of  hope  and  life  and  love  the  nurse; 

Thy  frown  was  famine,  and  thy  absence  night; 

Yet  that  which  loved  thy  smile,  and  feared  thy  curse, 

Hurled  thee  in  fuming  haste  through  endless  Universe! 

Thus  Gods;  my  soul  shall  seek  no  higher  will; 
It  is  a  God,  its  morn,  its  noon,  its  gloom; 
It  seeks  no  skies,  reveres  no  sacred  hill, 
And  hath  no  shudder  at  an  open  tomb; 
A  sister-thread  in  one  combining  loom; 

39 


the  Divine  Enchantment 

The  throb  from  pulse  that  bounds  in  many  veins; 
Not  one,  but  All,  the  flash  within  the  gloom; 
The  same  that  glows  in  thunder-cloud  that  rains, 
That  warms  this  breast,  yon  sun,  and  pales  the  moon  that 
wanes ! 

The  hollow  ages  sped  in  silent  haste, 

And  Ruin  lolled,  and  knew  their  spell  in  vain; 

On  every  hand,  the  desultory  waste 

Darkled,  nor  dreamed  what  was  would  be  again: 

Change  neither  moved  nor  breathed,  lest  such  were  pain; 

Forms,  poised  in  life,  thus  hung  exanimate; 

A  fierce  forgetting,  a  divine  disdain 

Moulded  their  features;  all  dispassionate, 

But  Kala  and  dumb  Night  who  banqueted  their  hate! 

But  when  Brahm  woke,  outstretching  his  strong  arms, 

Offcasting  sable  clouds  that  wrapped  his  form; 

He  smiled  upon  the  groping  Void's  alarms, 

And  set  a  sun  to  pierce  the  gloom  of  storm, 

Which  searched  from  out  the  dusk  fierce  Kala's  form, 

Enthroned  on  skulls  that  creaked  with  dizzy  height; 

Beneath  him  groveled  suns  that  still  were  warm, 

Since  Ajakava's  arrow  in  its  flight, 

Had  moaned  a  dismal  dirge  to  all  save  Death  and  Night. 


40 


tbe  Divine  enchantment 


VIII. 
NIRVANA. 

A  drowsy  spirit  floated  from  the  dark, 
Its  lips  envermeiled  with  the  poppy  bloom; 
Dim  was  its  eye  with  one  e'er-dying  spark, 
That  weakly  struggled  with  somnific  gloom: 
Yet  naught  about  the  spirit  told  of  tomb, 
For  on  its  cheek  the  damask  came  and  went; 
Its  lips  breathed  fragrance  of  immortal  bloom; 
Yet  each  heart-throb  and  breath  of  sopor  sent, 
Faltered  'twixt  languor  and  indifferent  intent. 

"The  Gods  are  sleeping,"  thus  the  spirit  sighed; 

"The  Gods  are  dreaming,"  then  why  wakeful  be? 

The  seas  have  slumbered  long  without  a  tide, 

And  canst  thou  be  more  wakeful  than  the  sea? 

The  Sun  is  cold;  more  watchful  thou  than  he? 

No  more  high  Brahm  the  tuneful  planets  hears; 

He  floateth  on  the  infinite,  calm  sea: 

Come,  pensive  spirits,  and  forget  thy  tears; 

Come  lie  with  me,  and  share  the  stupor  of  the  spheres. 

"Time  foldeth  now  his  pinions,  and  lies  down, 

Weary  with  conquest  of  eternity; 

The  regal  form  hath  tossed  away  the  crown, 

And  thou  shalt  sleep  as  peacefully  as  he: 

And  wouldst  thou  wish  to  any  longer  be? 

Why  dost  thou  deem  thy  feeble  victories  dear? 

Why  curb  the  conscious  flash,  or  chain  the  sea 

With  sentient  steel?    Hast  thou  enchained  the  tear, 

Or  made  thy  distant  hopes  glow  truer,  or  more  near? 


tbe  Divine  enchantment 

"Where  rushed  the  planets,  poppies  drowse  the  while, 

And  Night  is  drunken  with  their  opiate; 

Young,  rosy  Twilight  slumbers  with  a  smile, 

And  quite  forgets  the  day  is  growing  late: 

Then  wouldst  thou  linger  here  disconsolate?" 

Thus  crooning  music  the  drowsed  spirit  kept; 

Its  droll  words  swooned  and  fell  exanimate, 

E'er  through  their  weary  syllables  they  crept; 

And  as  the  spirit  ceased,  full  heavily  it  slept! 

The  meek  souls  heard  the  visionary  voice, 

They  weighed  the  vanished,  and  the  time  to  be; 

Too  weary  they  to  happily  rejoice, 

Poor,  weary  pilgrims  in  apostasy; 

Weary  of  throbbing  through  the  sanguine  sea 

Of  lustful  being:  finished  was  the  quest: 

Now  dawned  on  them  the  great  Identity; 

They  cast  Sansara  from  them  as  a  jest; 

They  saw  that  all  is  one ;  they  knew,  and  fell  to  rest ! 

Calm,  awful  calm;  yet  not  the  calm  of  death; 
Sleep,  heavy  sleep;  but  not  the  drowse  that's  cold; 
Calm  scarcely  stirred  with  an  unconscious  breath; 
Sleep,  charming  Time,  lest  slumberer  grow  old: 
Life's  pointless  tale  and  tedious,  is  told: 
The  Gods  themselves  have  wearied  of  their  pride: 
Brahm  slumbereth,  nor  dreameth  of  the  mould 
Of  realms  where  He  and  Vanity  might  bide: 
And  Yama  breathes  the  spell,  his  sceptre  laid  aside! 


42 


tfce  Divine  enchantment 


IX. 
DISENCHANTMENT. 

Wrapt  in  the  vision  Devanaguy  soared, 

And  deemed  herself  a  part  of  all  she  knew, 

Till  glancing  toward  the  spark  that  had  been  home, 

The  magic  vapor  of  her  dream  was  cleft, 

And  through  the  rift,  harsh  voices  seemed  to  beat 

In  doleful  lamentation;  curses,  groans; 

And  there  were  some  who  prayed  to  graven  gods 

And  some  who  passed  them  with  a  knowing  sneer; 

And  some  did  homage  to  a  magic  name, 

And  improvised  a  curse  for  dole  of  doubt: 

Then  all  arose,  their  prayers  still  on  their  lips, 

And  waged  wild  wars,  that  only  vexed  them  more; 

And  o'er  the  slain  the  slayers  fought  again, 

True  to  the  magic  of  a  muttered  word, 

Till  all  had  fallen,  all  save  one,  and  he 

Amid  the  desolation,  wept  with  doubt! 

Then  with  a  mighty  impulse,  cried  she  out, 

"God  is  about  thee,  see  thou  slayest  It; 

It  glows  in  thee,  then  look  not  to  the  skies:" 

And  as  she  spoke  it  seemed  the  mortal  words 

Weighed  down  the  mystic  balance  of  her  mind; 

So  broke  her  dream;  for  thrice  three  moons  had  waned! 

She  saw  great  Surya  with  his  baleful  eyes, 

And  crown  of  flame,  slip  'neath  the  girding  dusk, 

And  Indra's  countless  tapers  glow  aloft! 

Then  grew  a  rapture  at  the  virgin's  heart, 
And  through  her  flashed  a  deep,  ecstatic  bliss 

43 


Cbe  Divine  enchantment 

Beyond  the  glory  of  conception's  thrill; 
So  while  her  pulse  beat  music  in  her  brain, 
The  infant  Christna  dawned  upon  the  world! 

And  as  she  sat  and  mused,  gazing  the  while 
Into  the  clear,  deep  eyes,  that  seemed  to  her, 
The  mirrors  of  the  mighty  world,  she  spoke 
Half  to  herself  and  half  unto  the  child, 
Who  deemed  it  some  sweet  music,  and  was  glad: 
"And  wilt  thou  be  as  others,  Jeseus, 
Who  wassail  upon  sunbeams  for  an  hour, 
Then  quaff  the  potent  mystery  of  dusk? 
And  shalt  thou  feel  the  fever  of  their  lusts, 
To  wither  with  them?    O,  my  Lotus  Flower, 
My  heart  would  grow  a  bulbul  with  a  song, 
Wouldst  thou  but  be  a  comfort  to  their  griefs; 
A  sun  upon  their  night;  thy  life  a  song, 
To  charm  the  way  of  him  who  is  at  best, 
A  fevered,  nescient  traveler  toward  naught. 

He  says,  "Behold  the  world,  and  me  its  king!" 
Yet  dreams  not  that  some  broader  being  buds, 
And  bursts  around  him,  and  he  knows  it  not: 
'Twixt  taste  and  touch,  sight,  sound  and  scent, 
A  broader  day  than  ever  lit  the  East, 
A  fuller  life  than  rushes  in  his  veins, 
A  greater  bliss  than  his  crude  sense  can  grasp, 
And  nights  and  noons,  and  worlds  and  latent  suns, 
Whose  finitude  bounds  his  infinity! 

Bra&m  is  a  puppet;  yet  within  I  feel 

A  Something  faultless;  is  it  thee,  O  Source? 

O  earless  Vast,  art  thou  my  maker's  couch? 

Whate'er,  where'er,  whence-e'er,  howe'er,  I  hymn 
Thy  vast  and  wonderful  completeness,  OM! 

44 


Cbe  Divine  enchantment 


x. 

POSTLUDE. 

O,  Spirit  vast  as  ^Ether,  hear  me  pray; 

Wake  from  thy  musing  o'er  the  flower  thou  thrillest; 

Smooth  out  thy  frown  in  yonder  thunder-cloud; 

Forget  thy  smiling  at  the  evening's  brim, 

And  hear  me,  hear  thy  child. 

I'd  say,  O  Brahma,  but  destroyer  thou; 

Or  Vishnu,  but  the  flower  wilts  for  thee; 

Or  Siva,  but  thou  feedest  man  and  flowers; 

Come  from  thy  couch  of  downy  ^ther  waves, 

Come  from  thy  dwelling  in  the  burning  suns, 

Creep  through  me  with  the  songs  thou  canst  but  sing.  ^ 

Not  ./Ether,  Earth  nor  Heaven,  but  all  three, 

Breathe  o'er  me,  and  my  burning  desert  soul 

Shall  well  with  countless  springs,  and  my  warm  heart 

Shall  be  oasis  in  a  waste  of  bloom. 

If  thou  are  Siva,  spare;  if  Vishnu,  bless; 

If  Brahma,  recreate;  we  know  thou  art 

The  Eye  of  eye,  unseeing  and  unseen; 

The  Ear  of  ear,  unhearing  and  unheard; 

The  Thought  of  thought,  unthinking,  hid  from  thought. 

Thou  art,  and  art  not  to  each  votary; 

Reviled  and  worshiped  at  earth's  every  shrine! 

Thou  art  the  dusk  of  Night,  the  light  of  Day, 

The  Morning's  spirit,  yet  the  Sunset's  soul. 

Thou  thrillest  woman's  breast  with  ecstacy 

And  lo!  she  breathes  with  wondrous  double  life. 

Thou  dreamest  in  the  cells  of  sage's  mind, 

And  thoughts,  immortal,  spring  like  winged  gods. 

45 


tbe  Divine  enchantment 


Whate'er  they  call  thee  in  a  foreign  land, 
Whate'er  we  name  thee  in  this  land  of  flowers, 
Thou  art  the  same  dumb  worker  of  all  good, 
(And  evil,  which  is  undeveloped  good); 
Yes,  thou  art  dumb,  thou  hearest  not  my  voice; 
Night  darkens,  though  I  pray  howe'er  for  light; 
Morn  wakens,  though  I  clutch  at  fleeting  gloom; 
So  I  shall  weep  with  Sorrow,  it  shall  come; 
And  I  shall  laugh  with  Pleasure,  it  shall  be; 
Yea,  fearless  go  to  Death,  for  it  is  best; 
This  pulse  I  love  so,  is  not  mine  to  hoard 
And  limit  to  a  putrid  cell  of  flesh; 
It  is  a  part  of  thee,  Great  Infinite; 
'Tis  mine,  'tis  yonder  trees'  and  yonder  weeds'; 
It  blossoms  in  yon  banyan,  and  yon  bird 
Is  thrilled  by  it  into  a  vital  song. 

O  Nameless  Essence,  vast  as  ^ther  is, 
And  strangely,  endless  as  the  circled  years, 
As  thou  art  deaf,  I  can  not  worship  thee, 
But  my  soul  glows  in  child-like  admiration: 
All  is  well. 

END. 


46 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


